Making History

All I know of the Spanish-American Waris what Virginia boys, kept safe at college,etched into the mortar with their pencilsso that leaning against a brick walla hundred years later, I can make outCuba Libre! and Remember the Maine!I don't remember the Maine, onlythat a Cuba Libre is made of rum, Coke,and lime. What I know of sacrifice is

the tin spoons that always fall intomy dorm room radiator. Cereal:spoon.Ice milk:spoon. The world is lousywith spoons. The world is lousywith lentils, flash bombs, lo-fi, hi-speed.Somewhere is a petition I should besigning. Somewhere a parakeet isdriving a tractor, and I am missing it.A pair of scissors is thrown and the boy

catches it with his arm, the blade sinkinginches deep, so fast there is no blood.His roommate says What do we do now?Pull it out, says the boy, but no one wantsto be the one to pull it out. That's whenthey turn the camera off. Some nightsI dream we meet: You have to help me,he says. Cuba is burning. I reach into his arm.I pull out spoon after spoon after spoon.